Remember the Infinite Swords
by Dr. ForgottenFables
Summary: A reincarnation story where Godou is the reincarnation of Shirou Emiya, but doesn't have memories from that life time. Only the Unlimited Blade Works and a instinct for his old magic.
1. Chapter 1

**I own nothing, not the characters, the space where this story exists, or even the eyes that you are using to read it. This is for entertainment purposes only, no money involved.**

* * *

The sound of metal striking against metal rang through the air as two figures stood with blades in hand upon a hill covered in swords of every shape and imagining. Their shapes silhouette by a sun that was stuck in an enteral dawn on the horizon.

Even though the two warriors only had two hands, it was a battle of infinite swords. Blades flying through the air to clash with of blades, struggling for supremacy until one of the other shattered, but with each blade that was broken, another would take its place. A battle was only possible because of the two that were fighting it.

One was Gilgamesh, a legendary figure from the oldest recorded epic poem, brought into flesh and blood to take part in a power struggle by the Holy Grail itself, a 'Servant'. He was a man who was sent to have gathered all the worlds treasures, and as such he had all the greatest legendary weapons to ever exist.

His appearance was that of a young man with blond hair, though no man would have ever called him normal. His body radiated a sense of greatness that would make it easy to recognize him as a royal being. Though it was just as easy to tell that he was a morbid bastard by the look of disgust on his face, as if everything he looked at was not worthy of licking the dirt of his shoes.

The other Shirou Emiya, a young boy who had been dragged into the same power struggle and was seeking to end Gilgamesh in order to protect everything that he held true. To that end he used the arm of his future self in order to gain a power that would stand up to the 'King of Heroes', the Unlimited Blade Works. A reality of swords. Hundreds upon thousands upon hundreds of thousands of swords.

Shirou had dark red hair, his clothes were torn and he was bleeding. He was not a pseudo godly being, he was just a normal boy, but his eyes were filled with a fire that pushed him forward. He would never give up, not until his friends were safe. Not until either he or Gilgamesh was dead.

So the two combatants continued to fight. Sword after sword appeared in their hands to be used until breaking before being replaced.

"To think that I have to go all-out against a faker like you!" Gilgamesh growled in his rage.

"If you were a warrior then maybe you would be able to beat me." Shirou goaded the Servant. "But you're not are you. You're just a king. You have no skill with these swords you use. That's why I can still beat you." A grin was stretched across Shirou's face. His body hurt from the strain of his magic and he could feel the cost of the thousands of blades started to take its toll on him, but he had never felt so alive. Power was pushing through him, keeping him going, making him believe that it was possible for a mortal like him to overcome this would be god.

Gilgamesh roared and three gold circles appeared over Shirou's head. The red head felt the steal that was emerging from those gates and jumped back just in time to dodge the incoming swords. "Don't think that you are my equal!" Gilgamesh shouted as dozens more circles appeared, surrounding the mortal fighter. The power of the legendary blade that shot out of the gates caused a massive explosion that kicked dust into the air, rendering the entire landscape momentarily eclipsed.

Gilgamesh grinned, believing he had one but the thought died as Shirou jumped from the cloud of dust shouting at the top of his lungs as light poured from his hands forming into twin Chinese swords, one black, the other white.

"No!" Gilgamesh shouted sending another valley of blades against the boy, but each was deflected as the distance between them got smaller and smaller.

Gilgamesh reached out to call on his personal weapon in order to defend himself, but it was too late. Shirou slashed out, severing the arm before the King could bring the sword around to guard himself.

Gilgamesh didn't scream, he just watched in a sort of shock as his arm flew away from him. Gilgamesh's eyes then darted back to the boy who was just a foot away from him in the process of swinging his second sword. "I will give you this..." Gilgamesh said his cold red eyes locking onto the boy. "At this moment, you are powerful!"

"You aren't getting away!" Shirou roared as he used the last of his strength in one final attack. The black blade was pulled across Gilgamesh's chest and the world around them flashed, seeming to vanish from existence.

'It was too shallow.' Shirou thought, his heart sinking as he fell to his knees. The two fighters were back in normal reality, in the ruins of Shirou's destroyed childhood home. Shirou himself had sank to his knees as he realized he had failed. Gilgamesh had jumped back at the last second, so even though the strike had connected it was not deep enough to kill a Servant.

Gilgamesh was gasping for breath, his arm had been severed and he had a foot long cut across his chest. But he was still alive, and unlike the boy, he still had enough prana to call on more weapons. "Running out of prana is a pathetic ending." Gilgamesh said as he glared down at his rival. He summoned a single weapon from a gateway, it was held in the air, ready to fly at Shirou at any moment. "Victory is yours. You can die with that satisfaction, faker."

Shirou looked up at the servant. His sworn enemy. The man who had been the root cause of so much of the suffering in his life. A being who had seen him as less than dirt. It was almost odd to hear the respect in the blond king's voice as he glared down at Shirou, ready to end his life.

He had gotten so close. But in the end, it was all for nothing. Shirou sighed, his head tilting forward. "Saber, Rin, I'm sorry. Guess this is it." Shirou mumbled, preparing himself to be just another one of the nameless casualties of the Holy Grail War. But just before Gilgamesh could release his final attack, something unexpected happened.

Darkness. That was the only way to describe it. A sort of ball of shadows erupted from the hole left at the stump of Gilgamesh's severed arm. "What!?" Gilgamesh shouted in shock, his sword forgotten. But in a second he realized what it was. The grail had turned its sights on him. "Swallowing me accomplishes nothing." Gilgamesh grunted as he tried to pull himself away from it, but it was no use. "Wait!"

"A hole left by the Holy Grail?" Shirou said, even more shocked than Gilgamesh as the hole expanded in order to completely consume the golden king. Was this who it was going to end? Was Shirou actually having luck on his side?

But before he could even sort out his thoughts, a golden chain shot out of the dark sphere and wrapped itself around Shirou's arm. The boy stagged, struggling to plant his feet before he could be pulled in himself. "That malformed abomination!" Shirou was shocked again as Gilgamesh started to pull himself out of the hole by the other end of the chain, somehow managing it with only the one arm. "Does it not know that a fellow Servant cannot be made its core!?"

"Damn it... you're trying to take me with you?" Shirou grunted as he struggled to get the chain off his arm. He was so tired. He could feel his body slipping but he struggle to stop himself from being pulled in.

"Fool!" Gilgamesh shouted. "I haven't the least intention of dying! Stay where you are, ruffian!"

Shirou looked up at Gilgamesh, seeing the last desperate act to survive. A sad smile crossed the boy's face and Gilgamesh froze. "Sorry... I don't think I could hold on another second... even... if..." Shirou's body gave out. The mixture of physical, mental and spiritual exhaustion overwhelmed him. Gilgamesh gave one more shout of rage, cursing the world and everyone in it with his final breath before disappearing back into the hole, pulling the boy's body along with him.

* * *

The Grail was supposed to provide peace. And eternal rest of the souls that had been drawn into it. An end to the cycle of reincarnation that damned so many, allowing the spirits to become one with the root. And so, Shirou's soul should have known peace. But there was one problem.

His soul was already in the grail.

The grail itself seemed confused. Shirou Emiya's soul had already been in the grail, but this was Shirou Emiya's soul. It couldn't understand it. And the fact that the soul didn't seem to want to rest in peace was not helping the matter.

But what was the grail to do? By its nature the grail had to remove the boy from the cycle of reincarnation, but it could not hold two Shirou Emiya's. Confusion and doubt cycled through the holy artifact. It had to remove him, but it had no where to put him.

But in the end a solution was found. A loop hole.

Shirou Emiya could not be reincarnated within this world. But what about another? The grail reached out, using one of the true magics to form a gateway, grabbing onto another world that could easily be reached. One where the age of Gods still held strong, and the grail allowed the piece of soul to slip though it.

And with that the balance had been maintained.

* * *

For a few seconds, Mayo Kusanagi wondered if her baby had been still born. No sound came from the child as the nurses wrapped it in a sky blue blanket. "My... my baby..?" Mayo wheezed. Her voice was horse from the screams of pain that accompanied child birth. The fact that her husband, the babies father, didn't even show up not helping the matter.

"It's alright Ms. He's breathing just fine." One of the nurses said, seeming a little surprised by the quiet.

"You're a quiet baby, aren't you." The other nurse said as she held out of bundle for the mother to take. "Congratulation, it's a boy." She said, giving the mother a supporting smile.

But the woman was too wrap up in the baby. She looked down at the face of her new born son and was shocked. He didn't have the black hair of his mother and father, but instead the small tufts that clung to his head were a silvery gray color, and the boy's eyes were open, looking up at her. The eyes were the same, the same silvery gray. They looked up at her, seeming to be confused. They were the most breath taking thing that the mother had ever seen.

The baby made its first sounds, a cute sort of grunt as it reached out its arms in front of it, waving them through the air.

"I've never seen a baby with its eyes open this early." A nurse mumbled. "And what eyes they are."

"Do you have any idea's for the name?" The other nurse's asked with a curious smile.

Mayo wondered for a moment. She and her husband had come up with a few names. The one that her husband had wanted if it was a boy was Godou. But seeing the child, and his silvery hair, a different name came to the woman's mind. "Shirou." She said gently. "White. Like his hair."

* * *

 **Trying my hand at a reincarnation story. Only I'm not going to have him remember being Emiya.**

 **He will still have Emiya's skills and the Infinite Blade Works, but he will be slowly stumbling across them rather than having them all from the word go.**

 **Just so you all now, Chapters from now on are probably going to range from two thousand to four thousand words so if you actual like the fifteen thousand word chapters sorry, but those things give me head aches.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing, not the characters, the space where this story exists, or even the eyes that you are using to read it. This is for entertainment purposes only, no money involved.**

* * *

" _'The first warp-spasm seized Cú Chulainn, and made him into a monstrous thing, hideous and shapeless, unheard of. His shanks and his joints, every knuckle and angle and organ from head to foot, shook like a tree in the flood or a reed in the stream. His body made a furious twist inside his skin, so that his feet and shins switched to the rear and his heels and calves switched to the front...'_ " The three year old Shirou listened to his grandfather with held breath as the old man whispered the word from 'The Táin'.

Ichirou Kusanagi was a kind man going on sixty years, and Shirou loved him. His hair was still mostly black, despite his age, with only a few gray hairs showing through. And his arms were still strong as he held his grandson close with one arm and the heavy book up with his other hand as they sat together in the armchair of the living room.

Ichirou was a retired professor of folklore and had books upon books filled with stories that the little Kusanagi couldn't get enough of. Stories of Kings and Heroes that captured the little boys attention and made him want to learn more. And the way his grandfather read the story had a way of drawing the boy in, making he feel like all of the legends were real and that he was witnessing them first hand.

"Ichirou! That is not a story for children!" Both the grandfather and the little boy sitting on his lap jumped in surprise as they were pulled out of the world of the story to look up upon the disapproving face of Chiyo Kusanagi, Ichirou's wife and Shirou's grandmother.

Her hair had grayed a lot more than her husband's and there were more than a few wrinkles on her face, but she still had a mature beauty about her and a sort of spunk in her glare and pouting face. It was not hard for Ichirou to remember why he had fallen head over heels for the woman, even if it was a miracle that she managed to keep him faithful, as the man had been considered quite the lady killer in his younger years.

"My goodness Chiyo, you almost gave me a heart attack." Ichirou laughed as he put a hand over his chest to steady himself.

"Don't give me that Ichirou. You should know better than to read stories like that one to little Shirou. He's only three years old." The woman said putting her hands on her hips and standing like an immovable giant over the two.

"But it a good storwy." Shirou mumbled innocently. Sure it was a little frightening, but Shirou was fascinated by it.

Chiyo looked down at him causing the little boy to squirm a little in discomfort before the old woman sighed. "Why can't you just like normal fairy tales, the ones were everyone lives happily ever after instead of brutally killed?" She shook her head sadly. "I suppose you are just too much like your grandfather. Lets just hope you don't stay like him during your later years." The woman said, earning a hearty laugh out of her husband. "Alright you two, that's enough for story time. Grandma needs her little helper so that we can get dinner ready."

"Well then, you heard the lady. You best be getting to the kitchen, since we all know how hopeless your old grandmother is without you." Ichirou said, winking at the little boy as he put a book mark to tell them where they had left off and put the book aside before lifting his grandson off of his knee and lowering him to the floor.

"Okay!" Shirou shouted as he raced off towards the kitchen, his laughing grandmother following close behind. "Wha we make today, grunma?" Shirou asked in his normal cheerful voice. He stood at attention like a little soldier, but his big smile and small body just make it look comical.

Chiyo clapped her hands to her hips and looked down on the silver haired boy with a smile. "Well, I was thinking that we could have some nice curry for dinner, and then afterwards make some chocolate covered rice balls for desert. How does that sound?"

"That sound good, grunma." Shirou said nodding in agreement.

"Alright then little one, I want you to washed the vegetables and potatoes for me while I get the water boiling and get out the rice cooker." Chiyo said patting the boy on the head before turning him lose to do his assigned task.

Shirou was an odd little boy. He never seemed to 'want' anything and was always trying to help out around the house with the cooking and cleaning whenever his grandmother was doing either of those activities. Though the woman never let him hold a knife or touch the stoves, she was more than willing to let the energetic little boy take care of washing the vegetables, and pressing the buttons on the microwave and rice cooker.

Shirou never cried, he never asked for anything or complained that things weren't fair. He was a little angel. Even if he asked way too many questions.

By the time Chiyo pot the pot on the stove and brought down the rice cooker, Shirou was standing on a chair in front of the sink, washing the carrots, onions and potatoes, setting the washed ingredients aside on a cutting board to be chopped. "They're reddy, grunma!" Shirou said proudly as he finished. He looked over to see his grandmother setting up the double pot that she used to melt chocolate for the rice balls.

"Thank you sweetie. Now how about you measure out the rice and water while I cut everything up." Chiyo said as she went to work. Pulling out a large kitchen knife to cut up the ingredients.

Shirou's eyes stared at the knife for a few seconds as it chopped up one of the carrots into slightly uneven pieces. But soon he shook himself out of the daze and got to work measuring out the rice and water into the rice cooker.

As he closed the lid and pressed the right buttons to turn the device on, he placed his hand on top of the cooker. Taking a small breath he closed his eyes. He couldn't recall the first time he had done this, or even what he had done it on, but he had found that if he concentrated he could feel a sort of... flow moving through his small body into anything that he touched. He didn't know how it worked but that didn't really matter to the little boy, all he knew is that when he did it, he could tell thing about the object he was holding.

He could tell where and when his grandmother had gotten the rice cooker. He could tell how many times it had been used. He could tell what it was made of and how the parts fit together. The knowledge was slow coming at first, but as he did it more and more it became faster and faster. It came with a slight sting of pain, but even so, doing it had a sort of addictive quality.

He never told anyone about it. Not because he didn't want to get in trouble, or because he was worried that people might not believe him, but because it felt like it was something... to personal to share.

"Shirou." Chiyo called her grandchild out of his trance. The little boy looked up at her, his wide silver eyes blinking in puzzlement. "Dinner should be done in five minutes. Can you be a dear and get your grandpa from his study?" She asked him nicely.

"Yes, grunma!" Shirou chirped as he jumped up and ran across the house as fast as his short legs would carry him.

His grandfather's study was his favorite room in the house. Not for the shelves of books that his grandpa would read him, or for the pictures of heroes and wondrous senses, but for the tablets and older books that had strange symbols that he couldn't recognize. The things that he wasn't allowed to touch.

It wasn't because of the way they looked, or what they represented. After all, a stone carving isn't as nice a thing to look at as a painting. But there was something about them that seemed different to the little boy. A sort of... smell. He couldn't exactly describe it, just like he couldn't describe the knowledge he gained through touch, but there was something in the air around those pieces. Something that he couldn't see, or feel, or hear... but it was definitely there.

"Grunpa!" Shirou said as he walked into the large dimly lit room, looking around at the displays. He drank in the feel of the room, the smell of the permuted through the air.

"What is it, sport?" Ichirou asked the little boy as he turned away from a stone tablet he had been trying to restore.

"Grunma says we gotta eat now." Shirou said as he ran up to the desk, trying to stand on his tippy toes in order to see over the edge and the stone. The depiction was vary plain, a snake circling around a tree and biting its own tail. The smell coming from it was like a strong sea breeze and tickled Shirou's noise.

"Well then we best not keep her waiting should we." Ichirou said with a grin as he scooped up his grandson and tossed him, causing the little boy to squeal with delight before the older man tucked the struggling tot underneath his arm and carried him away.

"Thanks for the food!" Shirou shouted along with his grandparents after they had all sat down at the table. Shirou picked up a spoon and started to dig in, enjoying the taste of the curry and how his grandmother replaced some of the spices with fruit so it wouldn't be too spicy.

"Mmm, exhalent as always." Ichirou said with a smile to his wife.

"After all these years you still try to flatter me. Will it isn't going to be getting you anymore desert, you hear." Chiyo said sternly ragging a finger at the man.

"Can't blame a man for trying." Ichirou said winking at his grandson who giggled at the display.

"Hey, is momma coming home tonight?" Shirou asked looking up at the two older Kusanagis.

The two grandparents exchanged glances. "I don't think she will be home until after you get to bed little man." Ichirou said, trying to keep his voice light. "She called and said she would be working late again tonight."

"Oh... okay." Shirou said and dropped the subject, going back to eating and keeping a grin on his face, even though he felt sad.

He didn't mind it always being him and his grandparents, he loved them very much, but he did miss his mom. Even though she did live there with them, she was hardly ever around, working late and leaving early, with several out of town meets to go to. Shirou hardly ever got to spend time with her. And they hardly ever talked. That's why when he found out that his mother was going to have another baby, it had been from his grandparents, and not his mother herself.

Shirou had just assumed that she had put on a little weight. It wasn't until his grandfather told him that was his little brother or sister in his mother's tummy that he found out he was going to be a big brother. It had also sparked some anger from Chiyo when she hear Shirou asking how the baby got in there and his grandfather started to explain sex to the three year old.

It had been soon after Shirou's mother had become pregnant with her second child that the troubles between her and the father started. In truth the troubles had always been there since the couple were both more married to their jobs than each other, but the idea of a new baby pushed it to the breaking point.

Shirou's father had always believed that Shirou was not his son, since he didn't look anything like him. How could two people with black hair have a baby with silver hair? The little boy didn't understand it, but his father had always been rather cold to him because of this idea. The notion wasn't helped by the fact that Mayo had used her maiden last name when signing Shirou's birth certificate. It had been a momently act of anger against a husband that had not gotten away from his job to witness the birth of their first born child. But the action had cause the boy's very name to be a reminder of the man's suspicions.

So just two months before the second child was due to arrive, the two filled for a divorce, and Mayo moved back in with her parents, taking her child with her.

"So... are you excited about being a big brother? You know the baby will be here any day now." Chiyo said, trying to change the subject.

"Yah, I am." Shirou admitted with a big grin. "I wanna little sister."

"Oh, and why a little sister? Why not a little brother?" Chiyo asked with a teasing smile.

"Because brothers alway kill each other in the storwies." Shirou said simply.

Chiyo's face turned sour and glared at her husband who shrug.

* * *

That night, Shirou couldn't sleep.

He waited, wanting to be awake when his mommy got home, but as the minutes ticked by and his grandparents themselves went to sleep, he started to get restless. Why hadn't his mother come home yet? Why did she always have to be away?

Shirou shook his head, thinking about all of the stories his grandpa read him. The heroes never wanted to go off to war. They never wanted to leave their loved ones behind. But they had to. They had a higher calling, and the loved ones always knew that they would come back and that it was for them that the hero was fighting.

So Shirou was wait for his mother. He was wait until she came home.

"Maybe... momma would like someting to eat when she get here." Shirou mumbled to himself. So he quietly got out of bed and snuck quietly back to the kitchen. Being careful not to wake his grandma and grandpa.

He would make his mommy something for when she got home. It didn't have to be anything special, just something to let her now that he had been waiting for her, and that he still loved his momma.

He put some more rice in the rice cooker, enough to feed one person and then went to the cabinet. He pulled out a can of tuna and tried to open it. He grunted with the effort, his little three year old arms still weren't very strong. "Come on..." He whined. He felt the same kind of sting of pain that he felt whenever he read things histories and his arms felt as though they were heating up a bit. Suddenly, it was easy to pull the lid off of the can, as if his strength had suddenly increased.

Shirou scooped the fish paste out of the can and into a bowl and then put a paper towel over it before putting it in the microwave and setting it for thirty seconds. After the machine beeped he pulled it out and put it on the table before going and getting the rice which he then added to the bowl before stirring the mixture together until it was pretty consistent.

Satisfied, Shirou then went and grabbed two of the left over chocolate covered rice balls from the fridge, as well as some orange juice. "There." He said proudly as he placed it all on the table. He couldn't wait for his mother to get home and see what a good job he had done.

He sat down in his chair at the table and waited for his mommy to come home. But as he waited his eyes wondered and he spotted the knife his grandmother had used to make dinner still on the cutting board.

He froze, staring at it. He knew he was not supposed to hold any knifes, but... it felt like it was calling to him. He wasn't going to use it, he just wanted to touch it. To read its history. To know it.

Shirou glanced at the door to the kitchen, as if worried that someone would come in and shout at him at that very moment for even considering the idea. But seeing no one there, he pushed his chair over to the kitchen counter, right underneath the knife and stood on it, grabbing the handle and lifting it down.

He set the knife down on the floor and just stared at it for a few seconds. It wasn't anything special, just a normal kitchen knife, but Shirou was still fascinated by it. Slowly he reached out a hand, touching the flat of the blade and closed his eyes. The sting happened and he felt the energy flowing into the knife.

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. The level of detail he was getting was breath taking. He knew when his grandmother got the knife. He knew where each scratch along its surface came from. He knew the where the blade came from, and who designed the mold. He knew the type of metal used in the blade and the wood in the handle. He even knew the processes that it took to make the knife.

The information came it him. More naturally than with anything he had ever touched before. Shirou was stunned. He didn't even understand most of the information he was getting, but he knew it all the same.

And deep down a single thought echoed in his mind. 'Could I reproduce the process that made this knife?'

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there with his legs crossed, one hand touching the knife. It could have been minutes or hour, perhaps only seconds. But he was pulled out of the experience when the lights in the kitchen flicked on.

"Shirou! What are you doing!?" Shirou nearly jumped as he turned his head to see his mother standing in the doorway, looking down at him with a shocked and disapproving stare. "You should be in bed. And you know better than to be playing with knifes." She said waving a finger at him.

"I'm sorrwy." Shirou mumbled, moving away from the knife and looking down guiltily. "I... I wanted to make momma someting to eats... and... I'm sorrwy."

Mayo glanced over at the kitchen table and saw the food that her son had set out for her. She looked down at the boy, hardly three years old and already cooking for his mother. She sighed. "Thank you Shirou, but you really should have been in bed." She said.

"But... I want to see momma." Shirou said.

Mayo smiled at her son. "Thank you sweetie. Momma wanted to see you too." She said walking up to the boy and pulling him into a huge. Shirou's head rested against his mother's pregnant stomach. An ear pressed to it. The boy felt a kick inside and jumped. "Looks like you're little sister wants to say thank you too." His mother chuckled.

"Sister?" Shirou asked his eyes widening.

"That's what the doctor said, but there is still a chance it is a boy." Mayo said, winking at the little boy. "Now I'm going to be counting on you to be a good big brother and take care of your little sister, ok? It would be your job to protect her."

"Like a knight?" Shirou asked.

His mother laughed. "Yes, exactly like a knight." She said, brushing her hand through his silver hair. "Now how about I eat this wonderful meal you made me, and then we can both go to bed. Does that sound okay to you?"

Shirou nodded and then paused. "Can... can I sleep with you momma?"

"Of course dear." Mayo said before she sat down and began to eat.

That night for the first time, sleeping soundly in the arms of his mother, Shirou dreamt of swords.

* * *

 **Cú Chulainn, the real Berserker.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I own nothing, not the characters, the space where this story exists, or even the eyes that you are using to read it. This is for entertainment purposes only, no money involved.**

* * *

Swords. Twin swords. One black, the other white.

Shirou knew these swords. He knew them as well as he knew his own name. The weight of the blades. The center of balance that was slightly skewed towards the handle. The feel of the rough clothes that bound the guard. The way that the two sword were drawn towards each other. The slight cover that would cause a clashed blow to slide away as long as the swing had enough speed.

He could see them as clear as day in his mind's eye. The married swords. He could imagine how they were made. How they were used in battle. The yin yang symbols that made up the swords guards.

He wanted them. Wanted to know what it was like to hold them, to swing them, for them to be his own. It was a desire like nothing he ever felt in the waking world.

With swords like those he could do anything. He could protect everyone. Just like a real hero.

* * *

"Big brother, it's time to wake up!" Shizuka shouted as she jumped on Shirou's stomach, trying to drag him from his sleep.

"Wha..?" Shirou mumbled, still in a half dazed as he suddenly found himself staring up at his little sister's face.

Shizuka Kusanagi was just five and a half years old, with chestnut brown hair and bright green eyes. Something that made their grandfather wonder if the mother really had been cheating on her husband on all those away from home business trips. Like most younger children she was a bottle of pure energy, even early in the morning. She was already dressed for school in her sailor uniform that made up the school uniform, and she had her hair done up in the rapped buns that were her trade mark hair style.

"Big brother, if you don't get up now you're going to be late for school! So hurry up, before your breakfast gets too cold." Shizuka said as she pulled away Shirou's blankets.

"Do you have to do this every morning?" Shirou asked as he sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He knew that breakfast wasn't getting cold, he hadn't made it yet. But Shizuka had seen the scene done in one of her TV shows and had been doing it every morning ever since. She even made sure to wake up extra early so that there was no chance that her big brother would wake up before her.

Shizuka just grinned down at her older brother and nodded. "Happy birthday, big brother." She said happily.

Shirou blinked, confused for a moment before remembering. "Oh right. I guess today is my birthday." He said. Keeping track of such things had never been his specialty, but that day was his ninth birthday.

"How could you forget your own birthday. You're so mean, big brother." Shizuka pouted, giving Shirou the puppy dog eyes.

"Wh...what? I didn't forget your birthday. Just my own." Shirou said confused.

"No excuses. Now to make it up to me you are going to show me how to make blue berry pancakes." Shizuka said sternly as she waved a finger in her big brother's confused face.

"Wait, it's my birthday, so I have to do something special for you?" Shirou said, with a small sigh. His little sister hadn't moved off his lap and so she still had him cornered.

"Of course. I'm the cute little sister character, so you always have to be extra special nice to me." Shizuka said, dismissing the fake scowl for a wide grin.

Hearty laughter came from the open doorway and the two siblings looked to see their grandfather standing there, watching the scene. "You brought this on yourself, Shirou. You always spoiled the little girl rotten."

"I'm not rotten. I'm the sweetest thing there is." Shizuka said, pouting up a storm of cuteness.

Ichirou laughed again. "You sure are, sugar-cube. Now how about we let your brother get dress." The old man said as he held out a hand for the girl.

"Okay!" Shizuka shouted. The little girl jumped off of Shirou's lap and ran too the door grabbing her grandfather's hand and pulling him away.

Shirou smiled and shook his head at his little sister's antics. But soon he was jumping out of bed and making his way over to his closet to grab a school uniform. Shirou glanced in the mirror as he put on the rather plain black uniform.

He was fairly tall for his age, one of the tallest kids in his class, and his silver hair and eyes were easily noticeable. His grandfather always joked about how the little boy would need a sword and shield in order to defend himself from the waves of girls he was going to attract during his later years. It was a joke that Shizuka didn't find very funny, saying that she didn't want to share her big brother with so many girls. Shirou wasn't sure what to make of such talk. So he choose to ignore it whenever it came up.

Heading over to the kitchen area, he found his little sister sitting in front of the TV, watching one of those kids shows that came on just before the children would have to be ready to go to school. It was one of those magical girls shows, Pretty Cure, or something like that.

Shizuka loved them, the more modern idea of heroes as some kind of idealistic defenders of justice from an obvious evil, rather than the old legends where each side was more or less in the wrong and it was just whoever one that became the hero. Shirou could understand the appeal of the more modern idea, even if he still found the older stories more interesting.

Shirou stood and watched until the part in the show were the magical girls used their 'fix everything super attack' and the big bad monster disappeared and everything was happy again. Then as it cut to the 'to be continued' he cleared his throat, getting Shizuka's attention.

"You wanted to learn how to make blue berry pancakes?" Shirou asked his little sister with a playful smile. She grinned wide and nodded energetically before jumping up and running over too him as he got out the needed pan and spatula. So he showed Shizuka how get make the pancake mix and put in the blue berries.

It was all easy and simple. So much so that Shirou found that he didn't have to fall back on his cheating method by using his skill to read the history of the frying pan or mixing bowl to see how his grandmother used to do it.

Even though their grandmother had past away two years back in a car accident, there was still a little of her in everything she had touched. The memories of her recipes and special tricks on the kitchen lived on in her pots, pans, and oven.

Shirou was getting better and better at reading the things, even though it was never as complete as when he read a knife or any other form of blade.

He was pleasantly surprised when their grandpa took them to a museum and he found that he didn't even need to touch the weapons on display in order to read them. He could immediately tell which ones were genuine articles and which ones were just for display.

Shizuka took pleasure in cooking with her older brother every morning, just as Shirou had enjoyed helping his grandmother. Shirou showed her at what level to set the flames and how to tell when the pan was warmed up enough to start. After that he made the first pancake, showing her the right way to scoop it up and flip it.

After doing one more to make sure she understood, he handed everything off to her and stood to the said for her to give it a try. Staying close to help if anything went wrong.

In just a few more minutes they had a stack of a dozen fresh blue berry pancakes sitting in the center of the table with some butter and chopped strawberries beside the plate.

"Very good you two." Ichirou complemented his grandchildren as he started on his first pancake. "At this rate you will both make fine house wives."

"Hah hah grandpa." Shirou said, rolling his eyes as he cracked some eggs into a bowl to make omelets for their lunches and was tossing some mini hotdogs into the pan to cook before breaking the yokes. He had learned to use to juices cooked off the meat to flavor the omelets so once the hot dogs started to sizzle, he removed them and poured in the egg. After a few more seconds it was done and he cut it up and packed it into three small boxes; one for him, one for his sister, and one for their mother who hadn't woken up yet.

Then he sat down and pulling a pancake out for himself. "Maybe I should teach you how to cook too. You now Shizuka and I won't always be around to take care of you." Shirou joked as he ate.

"Oh, I think I'll manage." Ichirou chuckled as he took a sip from his tea. "Oh, and happy birthday. Hard to believe you've managed to survive a whole nine years with me. You're a tough one, that's for sure."

"Thank you grandpa." Shirou said, ignoring the sarcastic quip. He was more than familiar with his grandpa's way of acting, and it was not likely to change any time soon.

"Come big brother hurry, I don't want to miss the bus!" Shizuka shouted the moment she was done with her food. She jumped from her seat and ran off to grab her book bag and then went to wait for her brother just outside the front door.

"She does it every morning." Ichirou chuckled as he shook his head slowly. There was still twenty more minutes before the bus would arrive. "You go on ahead. I think I can still handle the dishes myself."

"Thanks grandpa. I'll see you later tonight." Shirou said as he got up himself and went to follow his sister's example.

* * *

Shirou half listened to his little sister talking about the show she had been watching that morning as they waited for the bus. He was nodding along as the girl talked but he didn't really understand what she was talking about.

Luckily the school bus showed up before she realized that he wasn't really paying attention and the two siblings got on.

"Shizuka, Shirou, over here!" Shizuka's friend, Hikari shouted at them, though she might as well not have bothered. After all, she was sitting in the same spot she had every morning.

Hikari was the same age and height as Shizuka, they were in the same class at school, and they had the same brown hair that was the same length. If it wasn't for the fact that Shizuka kept her hair in buns while Hikari only used a red hair band, then most people wouldn't have been able to tell them apart. The only real difference between them were their eyes; Hikari had dark brown eyes, while Shizuka's was a bright green.

"Hikari!" Shizuka shouted, just as needlessly energetic. Shizuka ran over to her friend and they claps hands, acting as if they hadn't seen each other in year, rather than just a day.

"It's good to see you again, Shizuka, Shirou." Yuri said from her seat right next to her little sister. Shizuka and Hikari moved to the bench right behind Yuri's so that she and Shirou could sit together.

Yuri Mariya was Hikari's older sister, sharing the girl's brown hair and eyes, though Yuri wore hers longer so that it reached down her back. She was a lot calmer and more gentle than her energetic younger sibling and she was one of Shirou's class mates and his only real friend.

It wasn't that either of them had been shunned by the rest of the kids. Far from it. They were idolized by the other students in their grade.

With her calm grace and quiet charm, Yuri was consider to be something of a princess by the kids. An idea that was reinforced when they found out that she was training to be a priestess of sorts and lived in an shrine. She was smart, well mannered, and always kind to others. The model of the perfect girl in Japanese culture.

Where as Shirou with his more than modest height and his silver hair and eyes had a regal appearance about him that made the other students think of him as something of a prince. He had been extremely competitive in sports and had set every record in the gym class, even beating the scores set be some of the older students.

So even though they had tried to be open and friendly with everyone, none of the other kids saw themselves as being worthy of calling themselves their friends. They had been placed on a pedestal, and because of that, they were more or less alone.

No one seemed surprised that the two of them had become quick friends. After all, they were the prince and princess of their year. But if anyone stopped to consider it, the two really didn't have much in common.

Shirou was outspoken but very submissive and was extremely athletic, where as Yuri was rather quiet, though stubborn in her own way and had very little stamina. But even so, the two were as close as close could get.

No one ever asked what they saw in each other, but if they had then the answers would have just confused them.

Shirou had first been drawn to Yuri, not because of her kindness, or her soft spoken nature, or by her cute charm. No. What had caught the boy's attention on the first day of school... was her 'smell'. Just like the artifacts in his grandfather's study, the girl had a sort of smell about her, more pleasant than anything in his grandfather's room. The only thing that Shirou could possible compare it to would be sunlight; pure and brilliant. If sunlight had a smell, then that would be what Yuri smelt like. Hikari had a bit of the same smell about her, though it wasn't as strong.

And if Yuri had been asked what she thought of Shirou all she would be able to say would have been 'He is the bone of his sword'. It would have made no sense to anyone. Yuri wasn't even sure what it meant herself. But whenever she saw Shirou, those words would echo softly in the back of her mind.

"Happy birthday, Shirou." Yuri said with her light smile as the bus started moving again.

"Thanks you, Yuri." Shirou replayed with a bow of his head. He smiled over at his friend. "Grandpa said we are going to be having a party at my house after school today. Maybe you and Hikari can join us." Shirou suggested. It wasn't as if there was anyone else he could have invited.

"Well... I'd have to go home and ask our parents first." Yuri said, she saw a momentary look of disappointment crossing Shirou's face so she quickly added. "But I'm sure they will say yes! Then we will go straight over!" She said frantically.

Shirou smiled again. "They that sounds great. And that will give us enough time to set everything up before you arrive." Shirou said happily. The two of them continued to talk on the way to school, discussing Japanese legends and fairy tales. Shirou couldn't wait until after school. He was sure that they would have a blast.

Though in true... by the end of the day... he would come face to face with death itself.

* * *

 **Some people have complained about the length of the chapters. So I'm just going to say it straight. I hate it when stories online have chapters that are more than six thousand words. I am someone who is a casual reader and I need those chapter end points to make a place for me to take a nice long break while reading. I don't know if it is the same for the rest of you, but that is just how I am.**

 **So even though I could combine some of these chapter and have one super long chapter that would cover everything up until the first fight, I'm not going to because I like to have clear stopping points for the reader sake. I am more than capable of writing more than that, but then I will be in the position were I can't even read one of my own chapters in one sitting.**

 **I'm also not going to put any of the incantations in bold letter. I might put them in Italics but not in bold. Having bold letters in the middle of your story just draws the eye away from were you were reading and makes it hard to concentrate. So don't do it. Same goes for all Capital letters, it is annoying to look it and hard on the eyes.**

* * *

 **Willing to take suggestions on what God Shirou could gain his first authorities from, but that won't be for a while. He is going to spend some time as a nobody before becoming a King.**

* * *

 **Someone said that it was the Throne of Heroes that removed the souls from reincarnation and not the grail... I thought it was the grail that removed the souls from reincarnation, since most of the souls in the Throne of Heroes are of people who never existed in the first place. The Throne of Heroes just keeps copies of the people in the legends, and not the souls themselves. Though I could be wrong. I'm not an expert on Fate/Stay Night.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I own nothing, not the characters, the space where this story exists, or even the eyes that you are using to read it. This is for entertainment purposes only, no money involved.**

* * *

"Try to keep your cuts even." Shirou said. He held his sister's hands which were wrapped around the handle of a large kitchen knife as they cut a raw tuna into smaller pieces to be used for sushi. Shirou had already done most of the prep work, skinning it and taking the meat off of the bone, and was just letting his sister help with chopping it into smaller pieces.

Shirou's eyes were always on the knife as it went up and down again, chopping the fish into small rectangles. The knife looked like his grandmother's knife. Its weight, its feel, they were exactly the same. It was identical down to the last scratch to that blade Shirou had first touched all those years ago.

But Shirou knew that it wasn't the real knife.

Back when Shizuka was still just a baby, Shirou had been the one to take care of her when she cried in the middle of the nights. His mother was still rarely around and his grandparents were a little hard of hearing, so they never woke up when the little girl began to cry. So, Shirou took it upon himself to take care of her, regardless what was wrong. Whether it was a little hunger, a dirty dipper, or just that she wanted to be held.

One night in particular, Shizuka had woken her older brother up because she was hungry. So Shirou had opened up her crib and lifted the two month old baby out. It wasn't something you would expect a three year old to be able to do, but with the mysterious power pulsing through his arms and legs, he was easily strong enough to carry the baby girl.

He had taken her to the kitchen and made her a bottle of baby formula, putting it in the microwave and testing the temperature on his wrist, just like his grandmother had taught him how to. And after he had finished feeding and burping her he noticed that it was almost time to walk up anyways.

So he placed the girl back in her crib before returning to the kitchen to try to make some breakfast in order to surprise his grandparents. It wasn't going to be anything special since he still couldn't use the stove or oven. He had decided to make some toast with butter and sugar on it. Something he had made with his grandmother more than once before.

The only problem was that he would need to cut the bread himself. Something he hadn't done before, but he was sure he could do it.

Only the bread was rather stale, and he was to young to understand that you didn't use the same kind of knife to cut bread as you did to cut meat. So he was using his grandmother's knife, trying so hard to get it to cut through the bread. He had gotten it a good ways in but it was stuck and wouldn't go any further. In his frustration he put more and more of his mysterious energy into pushing down on the knife, until it snapped in half.

Shirou had panicked. He had broken his grandmother's knife when he wasn't supposed to be using it. He had imagined the disapproval of his sweet grandmother and how she couldn't let him help in the kitchen anymore because he had been bad.

So he did what any three year old with do. He tried to hide his mistake. He throw out the pieces of knife. Only that wouldn't be good enough because his grandmother would notice that the knife was gone and Shirou just knew that she would know it was his fault.

He had been in a panic when the idea came into his mind of replacing the knife. Only how was he supposed to do that? He knew how to make the knife, every step that it would take, but he didn't have the equipment or the time. He had closed his eyes and imagined doing it, each step that it would take to make the knife. The image of the blade was clear in his mind, down the the very last scratch and stain.

It had felt like fire was pumping through his arm down to his fingertips as he imagined crafting the knife, replicating its history. Then to his amazement, when he opened his eyes, the unbroken knife was in his hand. A perfect copy.

He had never told anyone. He had replaced the knife and pretended that it had never happened. He felt guilty about lying about it, that one of the things that connected him to his grandmother was a fake.

Once he and Shizuka were done cutting up the fish into slices, they started to wrap them in plastic before putting them in a plastic tub and then into a cooler. They had decided that they would have a picnic for Shirou's birthday party. It was mostly Shizuka's idea, but Shirou didn't mind indulging his little sister.

"Everything ready, Shirou-my-boy?" Ichirou asked his grandson as he poked his head around the cover of the kitchen. The man was dressed in a Hawaiian style shirt with a sun hat and sunglasses.

"Just finishing, grandpa." Shirou said as he closed the cooler. "Thank's for all the help, Shizuka." The nine year old boy said, patting the head of his little sister who gave a triumphant grin. They had prepared fish, some roast beef, rice, yeast buns, steer fried noodles, a few sandwiches, and a fruit salad for the party. It had taken the better half of an hour, but it was finally done and they were ready to load it into the car and drive it to the park.

"You know you could have helped too, grandpa." Shizuka said sternly, waving a finger at the adult.

The old man laughed. "Not if we wanted to eat. Honestly, I can cook about as well as your mother." The man said without a hint of shame. Shirou could only vaguely remember the last time his mother had tried to cook. The water had boiled over, the bread had been burned to a crisp, and the meat had exploded in the microwave. There grandmother had thanked the heavens that at least her grandchildren were learning how to cook properly, or else the family would starve if something happened to her.

She had said that just days before her accident.

"Speaking of our mom, where is she?" Shizuka asked a little weakly.

Ichirou seemed to realize his mistake and winced. "Well... you see your mother is..." He stammered.

Shirou looked at him and sighed. "It's okay... I get it. She forgot and has business." He said, trying his best not to look disappointed. She had forgotten his seventh birthday too, and Shizuka's fifth.

"Your mother really does care about you two." Ichirou insisted. Less because he believed it then because he wanted the children too. "Everything she does she does for you, her precious children."

"Then why is she never around." Shizuka said bitterly. The five year old girl was not as forgiving as her older brother when it came to their flaky mother. She didn't care about her mother's job. She just watched other children's interactions with their parents and was left feeling cheated that she hardly even knew her own mother, and she had never even met her father.

Shirou ruffled Shizuka's hair gently, snapping the brown haired girl out of her annoyance. "Come on, this is supposed to be a happy day. Now how about you help take the plates and chopsticks to the car." Shirou said. Shizuka was quiet for a second before nodded.

But before they could start moving things around, the door bell rang. "That must be Hikari and Yuri!" Shizuka shouted happily, her mood doing a one eighty at the thought of her best friend and her older sister.

Shizuka ran to the front door and pulled it open, and as soon as the door was fully ajar, Hikari jumped in and hugged her friend causing the two little girls to fall to the ground laughing.

"I'm sorry it took so long." Yuri said, tame as always as she quietly waited to be invited in.

"That's alright, we only just finished preparations anyways." Shirou said as he stepped forward. He noticed a man he didn't recognize standing behind Yuri. "Who is this?"

The man was fairly tall with a narrow build and face. He eyes seemed like they were permanently closed and and his shaggy dark hair was pulled back in a pony tail. He was dressed in a plain black business suit and had a pleasant enough smile. "I'm sorry for the intrusion on your special day." The man said giving a polite bow. "My name is Amakasu Touma. I'm a friend of the Mariya family and they asked if I would not mind keeping an eye on their daughters while they were with you. I understand that I must seem very rude to simply barge in..."

"It's no problem at all. We made plenty of food." Shirou said standing to one side and gesturing for them to come in. "Please, make yourselves at home."

"Sorry for the intrusion." Yuri said, more out of habit than any real need as she finally crossed the thresh hold and took of her shoes. Hikari and Shizuka had already gotten back up and were running about the place. It was almost odd how much more serious and lady like Yuri was when compared to her younger sister.

"So your girlfriend has finally arrived, has she Shir..?" Ichirou started his joke as he moved from the kitchen to the entry way, but he stopped as soon as he spotted Mr. Touma. Shirou was surprised when he saw his grandfather's eyes momentarily going as cold as stone. But in the blink of an eye he was back to his old self. "It's good to see you again, Ms. Mariya." He said walking up to the little girl and patting her on the head. "You really should come by more often."

Then he looked up at the new visitor. "Now your a new face around here. Unless my memory is starting to slip already." Ichirou said, demanding the man's name.

"Amakasu Touma." The business man said, still smiling as he reached out a hand to shake with Shirou's grandfather. Ichirou took his hand and shook it. He must have been grabbing the hand harder than necessary, because Touma flinched as if in slight pain. "It is... an honor to get to met you, Ichirou Kusanagi. I have heard of your contributions to the history of our nation."

"Well it is nice to see my work was taken so well." Ichirou said, his smile seeming more than a little forced.

"Grandpa?" Shirou said nervously.

Ichirou turned to his grandson and ruffled his silver hair. "Alright little man. How about we load up the car so that we can get this party on the road... so to speak." The man said, giving a playful wink.

Shirou nodded and started getting to work. It didn't take long for them to load the food and picnic blanket into the car, and soon they were off, driving for the park.

* * *

The sun was starting to set after they had all eaten their fill and unwrapped Shirou's birthday presents, and the children were happily playing a game of sharks and pirates on the playscape, with the small two running around on top of the playscape while Shirou and Yuri pretended to snap at their heels from down below.

Ichirou sat on a bench watching the children at their innocent play, the man from the Committee sitting right next to him. "What are you doing here?" Ichirou practically growled at the man. He didn't know this individual personally, but he knew his type. Ninjas, meant for gathering information and spreading the Committee's orders.

"I heard that there was going to be this little get together, and I wanted to see your grandchildren for myself." Amakasu Touma said, not opening his eyes the entire time.

"They have nothing to do with you, or your organization." Ichirou snapped. "They know nothing of magic. They do not belong in that world."

"Do you honestly believe that?" The man said raising an eyebrow. "A full blooded Japanese boy born with silver hair and eyes, and you do not believe that he has an aptitude for magic? And your granddaughter as well. Those green eyes are a sure since of her magical heritage coming to the surface." Ichirou didn't answer. "Like it or not, the Committee has taken an interest in your grandchildren."

Ichirou was silent for a few seconds before he started to speak. "O hounds of Hecate, silences this speaker for he well reveal thy master's secrets. Bite down on his throat and bring a swift end to his voice."

Touma's eyes widened as the curse hit him. He felt as if his throat was being crushed and he started to make wheezing sounds as he desperately tried to gasp for breath. Ichirou turned to his with cold dark eyes. "I swore to my Chiyo that I would never let our children get dragged into your twisted politics." He said, his voice was full of hatred. "I will never let you bring harm to my grandchildren. And if you even think about dragging them into this sick power game of yours, then I will kill you, and everyone you know and love."

Touma was staring up at the older man, his eyes widened in fear. This was the Ichirou Kusanagi he had heard rumors of. The Grand Knight of one of the seven sister magic organizations in Italy, the Female Wolf. A man who had single handedly wiped out multiple cults and stood alone against rampaging divine beasts. He was the Black Wolf. More monster than man.

Shirou stopped over at the playground and seemed to sniff the air before turning his head towards the adults. Ichirou canceled his curse and Touma gasped for breath. "Remember what I said." Ichirou growled, his voice making Touma half expected to look up to find the man replaced by a great black wolf.

"Grandpa, is Mr. Touma alright?" Shirou asked as he ran up to the two adults.

"Oh, he's fine. The man just ate too much that was all. Boy seemed to be a bit of a light weight." Ichirou said, suddenly light hearted and all smiles. The agent couldn't believe the sudden change in the man. "I think we've all had enough fun for tonight. How about we all pack up and head on home?" Ichirou said with a grin, putting his hands on his hips.

"Alright." Shirou said, nodding before starting to help put everything up. Ichirou smiled as his grandson and granddaughter as they both tried to be as helpful as possible. He wouldn't let them get involved in the world of death and violence that characterized most of the magical world. Where everyone was so cruel and focused on there own agendas. He had promised his wife that he would do his best to keep them out of it. And he planned to keep that promise.

Unfortunately, the Void seemed to have different ideas from him. "You ready to go, kids?" Ichirou asked as he closed the trunk of the car. But there was no answer. "Kids?"

"Yuri, what's wrong?" Hikari asked as she put a hand on her older sister. The little girl was curled up into a ball, shaking with fear.

"Big brother, what is it?" Shizuka asked, Shirou who was standing rigid, his noise up as he sniffed at the air.

"I... don't know." Shirou said slowly. "It smells. It smells like rotten meat."

"He... he's here." Yuri whimpered quietly.

Ichirou didn't know what to do as shadow moved about the ground and undead soldiers materialized from them. The girls screamed and Shirou looked as panicked as they were when a man appeared from one of the shadows.

He was a tall man with a pale face and white hair. His toxic green eyes were more like a wild beast's than a man's as he gazed down at the children. Ichirou could feel him now, the overwhelming magical presence coming from the man.

The Black Wolf may have been a few years out of the game, but he realized what this was. The oldest Campione, the Devil of Balkan, Sāsha Deyansutāru Voban.

* * *

 **Alright, if you feel like flaming me about making up a different purpose for the grail, go ahead and do it here or on the previous chapter. Then piss off, because I really don't care all that much, it will never come up again anyways.**

 **Yes I made up most of that stuff about Ichirou Kusanagi, so don't bother trying to remember it. Though there really is a magic organization called the Female Wolf.**


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